


000:00:00:00

by lonelyhourglass47



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27634565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyhourglass47/pseuds/lonelyhourglass47
Summary: “The world isn’t going to end with a meteor hitting Earth, or a nuclear bomb going off and destroying everything. It’s going to end with everything on the planet freezing in time, including every sentient being’s thoughts. Essentially, it’s death.But not quite.”What would happen if Ethan and Mark actually predicted the end of the world? What if the year of Unus Annus truly was our last year of life?More importantly, how would our founders accept the end?
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I could have written this one before the channel ended, but I’m not perfect. I still think maybe it’s worth reading if you like the concept. Those of you who have read my other fics have realized by now that I write a lot more weird/sad stuff than romantic or sexual stuff. I write what’s fun for me, not what I think other people will enjoy the most. I hope that’s okay!
> 
> Anyway, try to remember the sound of the ticking timer as you spend your precious minutes reading, awaiting your own inevitable death just like Unus Annus did.
> 
> P.S. I apologize in advance for the huge line spaces. I’m sure some of you know the formatting on this website can be a little weird.

In a world full of black and white, we point out the color.

In a world full of color, we point out the black and white.

Not  _ completely  _ black and white, but enough to represent balance in the universe. Rather, two individuals who have combined their lives into one set of videos: the opposite of the grey you’d expect from mixing them.

Black and white. Unus and Annus.

“What if we did another competition?” asked Mark one evening as they sat on his couch brainstorming video ideas.

“What kind of competition?” Ethan pressed.

Mark tapped his pen against a sheet of paper, blank other than the words “Video Ideas” written at the top. “Something original.”

Ethan looked up and snapped his fingers, getting an idea. “Hey, remember that episode of The Office where they did a paper airplane contest?”

“Oh yeah!” Mark instantly wrote the idea down on his paper. “That could be interesting. Why don’t we make a bunch of different paper airplanes and they could be like our ‘teams’?”

“Ooh, that’s a good idea,” said Ethan. “The ultimate paper airplane showdown.”

“Do you think the fans will like that?” asked Mark. “I really feel like we have to give them the best content.”

“Yeah. You know there’s not too many exciting things we could do anyway because we’ve already done so many things early on,” Ethan realized. “Out of all the things we  _ can  _ do, I think this will be pretty good.”

Mark thought for a moment. “Is ‘pretty good’ enough though? What’s something more exciting we can do?”

Ethan crossed his legs and really thought about it, but despite his effort he couldn’t come up with anything. “Well, maybe let’s stop thinking about what would be good content for a second. What’s something you want to do before the end of the world?”

The world isn’t going to end with a meteor hitting Earth, or a nuclear bomb going off and destroying everything. It’s going to end with everything on the planet freezing in time, including every sentient being’s thoughts. Essentially, it’s death.

But not quite.

“Ugh, I don’t want to die,” Ethan complained, stretching and yawning.

“Will you quit moping? We have another video to record,” said Mark.

“Part of me just wants to give up on everything and sulk for the next however many days until our inevitable doom.”

“Hey, don’t get all depressed on me now,” Mark demanded. “We still have 250 days left and 247 videos left to record, so snap out of whatever mood you’re in and let’s do this.”

Ethan shook his head as if to rid his mind of melancholy thoughts. “250 days left on the timer,” he breathed. “Almost a third of the year gone.”

When the timer hits 000:00:00:00, the world will end. Contrary to what it may seem, Ethan and Mark did not set the timer. They only made the internet aware of it.

“Do you think it would have been better if we never found out about all of this?” asked Ethan.

“No, I think it’s good that we know so we can make the most of the time we have left.”

“When you think about it, we’re sort of the only ones who know,” Ethan pointed out. “The viewers don’t know that the world is going to end. They just think Unus Annus will. I wonder if the knowledge we possess is a blessing or a curse--”

“We can have a deep conversation about the end of the world when we’re done filming today,” Mark bargained. “Are you okay? You don’t usually get like this in the middle of the afternoon.”

Ethan sighed. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just so much to think about.”

“And you don’t have to think about it right now,” Mark told him. “Let’s get back to work. We can’t waste any time.”

They don’t want to watch the world burn, they don’t want to see the world end, but they do want to make the most of their last year.

“So, three minutes and sixty seconds--”

“That’s not the same as 360 seconds, Eth,” Mark tried to explain.

Ethan pressed four minutes on the microwave and was about to go with it when Mark smacked his hand away from the button.

“No! It’s six minutes,” he said.

Ethan giggled. “No, no, 360 seconds is four minutes,” he protested, more laughter bubbling in the back of his throat. “Because that’s three minutes and sixty seconds--”

“Oh my god, you’re fucking insufferable,” Mark practically growled. “We’re never going to get this video done.”

“‘S okay, we have all the time in the world,” Ethan exaggerated.

A curse word slipped past Mark’s lips as he pushed Ethan out of the way and put six minutes on the microwave timer. “No, we really don’t.”

But they won’t spend every last second filming for their channel. They still have free time, and personal lives.

They want to make the most of that, too.

“What do you  _ really  _ want to do before your last seven months are up?” Mark asked Ethan.

“Hmm. I want to do a lot of things, but I know what I  _ don’t  _ want to do,” said Ethan, giving Mark a look.

“You don’t ever have to get tased, Eth.”

Ethan laughed. “I know that, but there’s always a  _ possibility _ that I will.”

Mark groaned and resisted the urge to slap him. “The next time I hear you say that I’m going to--”

“What? You gonna punish me for it?” asked Ethan, and though he said it as a joke it  _ did  _ sound enticing.

Mark rolled his eyes, masking how he truly felt about the question. “Hey, you know what I want to do before the end of the world?”

“What?” Ethan questioned, cocking his head.

“I want to date a guy. I’m not straight, but I’ve only ever dated girls before,” Mark confessed.

Ethan’s eyes lit up and he said, “Is there a. . .  _ specific _ guy you want to date or. . .?”

“Yeah, actually. He’s a friend of mine.”

Mark wasn’t sure if Ethan was just always this slow or if he had been having a rough day already, but he didn’t seem to pick up what Mark was putting down judging by the way he said, “Oh, do I know him?” with genuine uncertainty.

Mark rolled his eyes. He knew Ethan liked him, maybe not as long as most believed him to, but for a while nonetheless, so he wasn’t worried about admitting he felt the same. “It’s you, dumbass.”

Ethan seemed completely surprised, like Mark might even be lying. “ _ You  _ want to date  _ me _ ?” Mark nodded, and as the information really sank in Ethan started to smile, a shit-eating grin on his face as he stared at Mark. “ _ You  _ want to date  _ me _ ,” he said again to confirm it in his mind. “Mark Fischbach wants to date someone like me--”

“Don’t rub it in,” Mark muttered, looking away.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” said Ethan, feeling playful. “That was some risky business confessing your feelings for me at a time like this. What if I would have rejected you, wouldn’t that be awkward as hell for the rest of the year?”

Mark chuckled nervously. “I had a hunch you wouldn’t dream of doing that.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “You’re not wrong,” he muttered. “Is this the part where we’re supposed to kiss?”

Mark found the courage to look at Ethan again, glancing at his lips, which looked  _ very  _ soft. “Come here,” he said in a low rumble, and Ethan complied, scooting across the couch until he was right there, his arm brushing against Mark’s.

“How long have you wanted this?” Ethan whispered, his eyes darting over Mark’s facial features.

“Why do you think I wanted to spend my last year with you?” answered Mark, and as soon as he had finished the sentence he was leaning forward to press his lips to Ethan’s.

Ethan happily accepted the advance, his eyes fluttering shut while he focused on the feeling of Mark’s lips on his. He could hardly believe it was happening until Mark grabbed a fistful if Ethan’s hair and tugged a bit, an inadvertent gasp forcing the latter’s lips apart and effectively opening a window for Mark’s tongue to snake between them. When their tongues met, Mark let out a low moan at the satisfaction, and Ethan sighed.

Only after the clock in the back of his mind had ticked on for several minutes did Ethan pull away, half-coherently mumbling, “Feel my heartbeat,” as he took Mark’s hand and guided it to his chest. Mark paused to appreciate the insanity unfolding within Ethan before leaning down and gently biting his neck, sucking away the pain to form a hickey there. “How will we cover that up in the videos?” Ethan asked, but his ability to care slowly dwindled as Mark continued to please him.

“Take this off,” Mark ordered, tugging at the fabric of Ethan’s shirt. Obeying the request, Ethan yanked his tee off and glanced down to see Mark working at undoing the button on his jeans.

“Are—are you sure this is how you want to spend your precious time?” asked Ethan, his eyes glazing over along with Mark’s but remaining too thoughtful not to ask.

“ _ Yes _ ,” Mark wanted to growl, but he couldn’t resist softening his tone to make sure Ethan knew he meant it. “Are you kidding me?” A small smile formed on each of their faces as Mark admitted, “I’ve wanted you forever.”

Ethan’s face heated up as he looked away before he would grow too fond of Mark’s dark eyes. Yet his hands found their way into Mark’s black locks of hair and his face magnetized to Mark’s, but just before Ethan could reach his lips he murmured, “Ditto,” and for some reason it caused them both to burst into laughter.

Mark pulled Ethan on top of him and smiled wide, his hands running up and down the boy’s thighs. “Kiss me again before I get sappy,” he pleaded.

Ethan giggled and responded with a “your wish is my command” in a not-so-sexy voice before leaning forward and capturing Mark’s lips in another searing kiss.

The thing about knowing the world is ending and you only have a limited amount of time left is that it makes it hard to be satisfied. There’s always more you could be doing. There’s always more to experience.

“Do you think we’re rushing this too much?” Ethan asked Mark as they laid in bed together, unclothed and exhausted after sex. 

“We only have half of the year left. Everything has to be rushed,” Mark replied.

Ethan thought for a moment. “I don’t want to rush anymore.” Mark gave him an odd look. “I mean, I know we only have a certain number of days left to live, but I don’t want my final moments to be me looking back on the last year of my life and regretting how frantically I did everything. Rushing makes it harder to enjoy things, you know?”

Mark nodded and climbed on top of Ethan, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “So then maybe we should go  _ slow _ ,” he said, “making every move precise and deliberate. Just enough to make it perfect, while also getting the  _ pleasure  _ we want out of it. We stay relaxed.” 

Ethan shivered as Mark ran his hand down Ethan’s chest and moved to kiss at his neck, biting and sucking another hickey into the pale flesh.

“I like that idea,” Ethan breathed, already becoming aroused again. “Though I’m not that patient.”

“Me neither,” Mark growled, grinding his hips down onto Ethan’s. “But I want to  _ savor  _ this.”

100:23:59:59 left on the clock and they began to realize just how quickly time had dwindled down, when they stopped complaining about running out of ideas and instead wondered if they had too many for such a short time. 

“A hundred days, Ethan,” warned Mark, furiously chopping onions in the kitchen. “That’s almost down to a fourth of what we originally had.”

Ethan sighed and let his head hit the back of the couch. “Why do we have to carry this responsibility? Why do we have to go through it alone?”

“We aren’t necessarily going through it alone,” said Mark. “We’ve just chosen not to tell anyone.”

“Why did we do that again?” Ethan asked.

Mark set his kitchen knife down and crossed his arms, looking up at Ethan. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t want any of the fans to be frantically rushing around during their last year of life to cross everything off of their bucket lists. It would be a stressful way to live and die.”

Trying his best to keep his mouth shut, Ethan stretched and stood up from the couch. Mark picked up his knife again and went back to chopping onions. “Good, now that you’re up you should come help me with dinner.”

Ethan stepped into the kitchen, staring at Mark’s movements for several silent seconds until he took the knife from Mark’s fingers and held it up to his throat, watching as Mark looked up in confusion and his eyes immediately went wide, reaching out to gain possession of the knife again before Ethan would seemingly try to slit his own throat.

“What the fuck are you doing?” asked Mark. “Trying to kill yourself?”

Ethan held the blade firmly in his hand, ever so slightly pressing the sharp edge to his skin and showing the smallest smirk. “Imagine if I was a fan, Mark. This kind of death would be no different without the knowledge that this year really is the last year for everyone to live. Dying so suddenly as all time comes to a halt without ever knowing it was even coming is exactly the same experience as having your throat randomly slit while you thought you were just chopping onions for a meal.”

Mark shook his head. “Get the knife away from your neck, you’re worrying me. Even if you’re just trying to prove a point. The execution was stupid anyway.”

Ethan chuckled and brought the knife down, much to Mark’s relief. “Nice use of ‘execution’. Funny.”

“Stop with the bullshit and help me please. The fans don’t need to know. They won’t be able to handle it. Besides, they would never believe us, and we’d be seen as crazy if we tried to convince them it’s real.”

“What if it isn't real?” asked Ethan. “What if we’re imagining it?”

Ethan felt something leave his body then, and behind him his counterpart appeared. “ _ It’s real _ ,” Unus murmured, failing to look at Mark in favor of staring at Ethan. “ _ We told you. _ ”

“ _ Don’t doubt us, _ ” said Annus, spooking Mark and causing him to jump and turn around, but before he could see the man, they were both gone. Ethan looked back at Mark.

“Nevermind,” the former whispered, turning back to the cutting board.

Mark nodded.


	2. Part Two

_In a world full of black and white, we point out the color._

_In a world full of color, we point out the black and white._

“I think we should get new suits,” Ethan suggested while watching Mark add the timer into the beginning of another video. 69:11:59:59 left on the clock, and still so much to do before the end.

Mark acknowledged him with a low hum, keeping his eyes locked on his computer screen while continuing to edit. “Are you agreeing with me or not?” asked Ethan, but Mark didn’t reply, too caught up in catching everything wrong in their footage. “Hello?” Still no response. Ethan sighed and left the room, knowing he’d only anger Mark by butting in.

Hours later and Mark was still up there, hacking away at the same video and shaping it up to be perfect for the viewers. _Work faster,_ a voice in the back of his mind persistently told him. Only when he let out a sigh of exhaustion and leaned his head back did he see Annus practically towering over the back of his chair.

Startled, Mark jumped forward and nearly smashed his hands down on his keyboard. Annus chuckled and patted Mark on the shoulder, sending an ice cold shiver throughout his body. “Stop scaring us like that,” Mark whispered, frozen in place and unable to turn and face his deadly doppelganger.

“ _I just wanted to remind you that you’re spending an awful lot of time editing just one video,_ ” Annus said, his tone judgemental as if he wouldn’t be doing the same thing were he in Mark’s place. “ _Take a look at the timer. You’re running out of days._ ”

“So is everyone else,” Mark gritted, wishing the torment away. “And you and Unus are supposed to help us, not torture us like this.”

Annus chuckled. “ _It’s not our fault you’re afraid of us. One day soon you’ll accept the truth._ ” Mark opened his mouth to say something, but Annus had already vanished. The cold seeped from Mark’s bones all at once, leaving a faint condensation on his skin as he took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. Back to editing.

By ten o’clock that night, Mark found himself satisfied with the video and moved on to the next, getting started much quicker the second time around and still zoned in despite working tirelessly for eight hours. Ethan, having spent all day filming for his own channel, went up to Mark’s little cave and asked him to come to bed. “It’s getting late,” he tried, resting his rough hands on Mark’s shoulders.

Mark brushed him off and said, “Just give me another hour. I’m in the middle of this one.” So Ethan sighed, deciding not to start an argument and stepped into the hall.

_Going somewhere?_ asked a voice which sounded identical to his. Ethan ignored the figure leaning against the wall, walking past without looking in his direction, but Unus put a hand out to stop him, his palm landing flat against Ethan’s chest.

It’s almost like Ethan started to have heartburn, and his blood boiled at the interruption from the last entity he wanted to see at ten o’clock at night, especially when he was alone in the hallway. “ _You’d be wasting time by going back to that bedroom alone,_ ” Unus supplied, a pitiful look in his eye. Ethan finally turned to look at him, eyeing him up and down before saying, “We _should_ get new suits.” Unus frowned, and Ethan let out a rather cathartic laugh.

Unus stopped his foot down, and Ethan’s body instantly grew hot, sweat forming at his hairline from sheer fright. Inside the office, Mark took his headphones off and asked, “Eth, are you okay? What was that?”

His eyes still locked on Unus, Ethan swallowed and said, “Nothing. It’s just _him_.” Hesitantly, Mark blinked a few times and repositioned his headphones, returning to editing because he knew he couldn’t interfere with Unus. It was kind of an unspoken rule. Ethan could talk to Unus, Mark could talk to Annus, and Unus and Annus could talk to each other, but no more than that. Ethan and Mark could each only speak to their own respective counterparts, because mixing two different energies which weren’t exact opposites would throw the balance of time off by a mile.

Ethan bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, twitching from the stinging pain while Unus stood there, arms crossed and smirked. " _Don’t be afraid of me,"_ he ordered. " _I’m only here to help you save time."_

“There is no way to save time,” Ethan murmured, but the figure in front of him had vanished, leaving only the dark wall behind him. He almost found it funny that a messenger of time would say something so blatantly incorrect, but then again, Unus was supposed to be a manifestation of Ethan himself in some ways. In that case, his slip up made sense.

After thirty minutes of sitting in the hallway with his head in his hands, Ethan decided he needed to spend time with Mark to get his mind off of the ticking in his head. Stepping back into the room, his plan was to use a rather enticing desire to ensure Mark would finally leave his desk. Approaching Mark from behind, Ethan lifted one side of Mark’s headphones off of his ear and used his other hand to grab a handful of Mark’s hair and tug his head back slightly. WIth his lips close to Mark’s ear, he spoke low and dirty. “I want you fuck me right here, right now.”

Mark had never moved faster in his life.

The walls absorbed Ethan’s whiny moans and Mark’s low grunts while they went at it, sweating enough that their legs would start sticking to the couch soon. On the other side of the door, Unus had his ear pressed against the wood, raising his eyebrows at Annus who stood a foot away. “ _Why is this how they choose to spend their time?_ ” the former asked.

Annus shook his head. “ _They’re human. It’s in their nature._ ”

“ _Well it’s not like they’re trying to reproduce._ ”

Annus smacked him on the arm. “ _Don’t be a bigot. You’re only like this because you’re gay for me._ ”

Unus rolled his eyes. “ _Sure, keep telling yourself that. Father Time won’t have any part of this._ ”

“ _Exactly, so what’s holding you back from kissing me?_ ”   
  


Unus leaned away from the door and pursed his lips. “ _Just because the human form you’re in is attractive doesn’t mean I’d want to do that. You’re a messenger of time, and we can’t have distractions like lust._ ”

“Oh, _fuck,_ Mark!” Ethan moaned from the other room, and Annus waggled his eyebrows.

“ _I don’t know, it seems like they’re having fun in there_ ,” he offered.

“ _You’re insufferable,_ ” Unus claimed.

“ _That’s not your line._ ”

Ethan coughed and sneezed, shielding his eyes from the light streaming through the curtains. “How many days left?” he said weakly.

Mark handed him a glass of water and two acetaminophen pills before grabbing his phone and searching Ethan’s symptoms to find out what illness he might have. “Fifty, I think,” he replied, scrolling through safari for a moment before declaring that it’s probably just a cold and nothing more.

“Will you get back into bed with me please?” asked Ethan, making grabby hands towards Mark as if he wasn’t a 23-year-old man.

“Eth, I have to edit today or I won’t get Tuesday’s video done in time,” Mark reasoned, but Ethan pouted and reached out further.

“You can do that later; I’ll help you if you feel rushed. Just lay with me for a little bit?” Mark sighed and gave in, unable to resist those sad, weakened eyes.

Mark pushed back the duvet and climbed back into bed, lying on his side to face Ethan. “You’re lucky I’m choosing to spend one of my final twelve hundred hours with you,” he said.

“But don’t you love me?” Ethan asked in a whisper. It was a true question, something they hadn’t had the courage to say to each other before, at least, not in this context. Mark looked down from Ethan’s eyes, reaching a hand forward until his fingers slid across Ethan’s cheek and into his soft hair. He glanced back and forth between Ethan’s lips and his heaving chest. For something as small as a cold, it sure was taking a toll on him.

“I do love you,” confessed Mark. Ethan’s eyes lit up, his lips parting in surprise as he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. And then the biggest smile spread across his face, and he whispered a broken “really?” Mark nodded and said, “You didn’t know already?” to which Ethan shook his head no and smiled even wider. He grabbed Mark by the front of his shirt and pulled them closer together.

“I love you more,” he challenged, his face heating up more by the second. Though maybe that was only due to his sickness. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Mark shrugged the best he could while laying sideways and said, “I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same.”

Ethan laughed. “Have you _seen_ yourself? And you do know that, like, everyone falls for you, right? Shit, this isn’t good for your overinflated ego.”

“Shut up,” Mark said, smiling now as well.

“Make me,” said Ethan, his lips puckered up for a kiss.

Mark lightly tried to push him away. “No, you’re sick. If I kiss you, I’ll get sick too.”

“But don’t I look _so_ cute, Mark?” Ethan bargained. “How can you resist?”

“You’re not going to trick me into this.” Mark turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore Ethan, who was now whining and complaining that he needed something to cheer him up since he wasn’t in perfect health.

“ _Please,_ ” he begged. “Just one kiss.”

Mark made the mistake of glancing back over at Ethan, and he knew it was over right then and there. He _couldn’t_ resist, no matter how much he wanted to. So he sighed and leaned over to the side, pressing his lips to Ethan’s only for a moment. It was just a peck, really.

But then Ethan drew him back in and immediately pressed his tongue to the little space between Mark’s lips, the latter allowing his mouth to open up in order for their tongues to dance. Ethan had a way of distracting Mark, making him forget about the whole “being sick” thing because he needed to make out with Ethan so badly.

_Pathetic,_ Annus would say.

“Ugh, I hate you,” Mark said minutes later when he finally persuaded himself to pull away. Ethan was breathing heavily, his face blazing hot and his eyes dark and full. “You better not be horny after just that. I’m not fucking you while you’re sick.”

Ethan raised his eyebrows and gave a suggestive look, but the idea was quickly laughed off when Mark pinched him and threatened to leave the bed.

“No, stay with me!” Ethan said through contagious laughter. Mark had to bite back a chuckle. “I’m sorry you’re going to be sick now.”

“Oh, you _will_ be sorry when I wake up a complaining asshole tomorrow,” said Mark. “You’re going to get so annoyed so fast.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Great.”

“You did this to yourself, Nestor,” Mark reminded him in a sing-song voice.

Ethan rolled over onto his other side and pretended not to hear him. “Can’t hear you,” he mumbled.

Mark scooted closer and spooned him, and like that they fell back asleep.

What woke Ethan up hours later was the sound of Mark sneezing right behind him. His eyes quickly adjusted to the golden light in the room, the digits 5 00 burning holes into his already overheated skin. “We slept all day,” he said groggily, turning around to see just how close he and Mark were. “Did you sneeze into my fucking hair?”

Mark slowly peeled his eyes open and sunk further into the pillows. “Would you believe me if I said no?”

Ethan’s mouth fell open in offense as his hand wandered through the hair on the back of his head, trying to feel for any unwanted sneeze particles there. He tried to wriggle away from Mark, but the man had a death grip on him. Ethan started to worry that maybe Mark was actually clingy for once when ill.

“Jeez, if you have to leave me at least go make me some soup,” said Mark.

Ethan tsked. “I’m still sick too, don’t think I owe your ass anything.”

“You’re the one who needed me to kiss you _so_ much, even though you knew this is what would happen,” Mark argued.

“I didn’t know you’d be this needy right off the bat,” Ethan corrected. “I just thought you’d be sick like a normal human being.”

Mark attempted to sit up. “And what’s your idea of a normal human being, Mr. I Can’t Read, Do Basic Math or Focus On Anything for More Than Three Seconds?”

Ethan finally managed to remove himself from the bed, standing up and stretching before acknowledging his boyfriend. “I’m going to find some sleep medicine for you, because if this is what you’re going to be like I don’t want to deal with it.”

“How irresponsible of you,” Mark said in that half-joking, half-asshole tone of his.

Ethan ignored him, making his way down the hall before he stopped to see someone staring at him from the bottom of the stairs. Dark eyes, dark hair, and an even darker suit. Not again.

He tried to turn and walk back towards the bedroom, but Unus only appeared in front of him and scared the living daylights out of him, slowly backing Ethan up against the wall until there was nowhere left to move.

“ _You managed to get yourself sick? Really?_ ” Unus judged, giving Ethan a once-over before letting his coal eyes pierce into the boy’s. “ _What a waste of time.”_

Ethan felt defiant despite the burning fear rapidly overtaking his limbs. “It’s impossible to waste time, we can only spend it.”

Ethan was thrusted back against the wall by the man who looked like him, Unus grabbing each of his wrists and pinning them to the wall down next to his hips. His hands, equipped with an iron grip, tightened around Ethan’s wrists until the latter feared his circulation might be cut off.

“ _You listen to me,_ ” Unus demanded, leaning in much too close for comfort, his breath hot as fire. “ _You think your desires are important? Think again. Your only purpose is to give your precious ‘fans’ on the internet a decent last year. But now you and your devilish lover have spent so much time with your dicks in your hands that you’ve only got fifty days left. This is my final warning to you to_ use them wisely. _If you don’t, the repercussions could be...deadly.”_

Ethan quivered under Unus’ hold, wondering how he could ever be so afraid of someone who looked exactly like him. “ _You wouldn’t want to be taken before your time, would you? To hand Mark sole responsibility of the channel in its final weeks?”_ Ethan rapidly shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut to protect himself from the other’s fiery gaze.

“Please don’t hurt me,” Ethan begged meekly. Unus only laughed. He was enjoying this.

“‘ _Please don’t hurt me,_ ’” he mocked, following up with a quick stomp of his foot, his shoe dangerously close to crushing Ethan’s toes. “ _You’re absolutely petrified, I can see it in you. Let this be a lesson._ ” He dug his black-painted fingernails into Ethan’s wrists, hard enough that it drew blood and Ethan genuinely feared for his health. He cried out in pain, but it only caused Unus to free one of his wrists in favor of wrapping his hand around Ethan’s neck and putting just enough pressure there to strike panic.

“ _You are nothing compared to me. You are beneath me. Until you accept the truth, the reality, the fact that your days are numbered, this is how I choose to treat you. If you weren’t such a coward, maybe you could fight back._

“ _But cowards are weak, and they’re the ones who we can force to follow our orders. So stop dilly-dallying and give your little Youtube channel everything you’ve got. If you don’t, I’ll haunt you for every day until you die, plucking out your eyelashes one by one while you sleep or tearing off your fingernails as you lie bleeding in the shower. Don’t test me, boy._ ”

Ethan let the tears fall from his eyes, his sickly body pulsing as all the blood rushed into easy-to-damage places and he lost vision, the figure in front of him turning into a blurred silhouette. Unus breathed poisonous air at him, Ethan’s tears boiling from the heat as he lost the ability to breathe even when Unus took his hand away from his throat. Ethan gasped for air, but to no avail, and when he blinked Unus had disappeared. He slid down to the floor, feeling his heartbeat in his marked and injured wrists as his hands flew up to his own hair and tugged, wanting to scream but not having the oxygen to do so.

For the first time, he genuinely couldn’t breathe.

“Mark,” he croaked out, vision still compromised and feeling woozy. There was a deep panic in his chest that served as the only thing keeping him awake. The only thing he heard was his own rapid, pounding heartbeat, so he called for Mark again but louder this time. He continued to do so, his energy quickly running out until he felt a hand on his shoulder, too warm and soft to be that of Unus. Mark’s voice, faint in Ethan’s ears but still barely discernible, told him to breathe, but no, Ethan couldn’t breathe, and sadly there was no way to communicate that to Mark aside from continuing his unsafe pattern of gasps and sputters. He heard Mark cry out in fear or frustration or both, trying to get Ethan to hear him.

“--see me?” he heard Mark ask. “You have to breathe, come on now. Follow this pattern.” Ethan listened to Mark breathing in and out at a steady pace, only able to focus for a few seconds at a time because he kept replaying Unus’ words in his head, particularly how he had degraded him. After several minutes of trying and failing and trying again to breathe, however, Ethan could see and hear better as well as take in enough oxygen to dispel the lightheadedness he had previously felt. He let his arms drop to the floor, and only then did Mark see the damage there.

“Eth, what happened?” he breathed, lifting Ethan’s arms carefully to inspect his injuries. His right wrist was actually bleeding, indentations of fingernails on both. “Was it--”

“It was him,” Ethan interrupted, confirming Mark’s suspicions. “He--he threatened me--it was so scary Mark--h-he said that if we don’t stop wasting our time he’ll k-kill me before the timer is up,” he choked out frantically.

“He won’t do that,” Mark claimed confidently, but he could feel his lungs freezing on the inside. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t. We’re safe together.” If only he knew that for a fact.

They had to be careful now. Extra careful.


	3. Part Three

Ever since the most recent incident, Ethan and Mark worked endlessly each day to make up for lost time they could have spent creating  _ good  _ videos for the fans who would soon meet a collective doom, not spitting out dead-end eight or nine minute content that didn’t satisfy anyone’s expectations. For a while, it worked. No interference from Unus or Annus, no stress aside from meeting deadlines, no time to think about how quickly the clock was running down. It kept their minds off of the inevitable. In a way, they found relief in this new system.

The consequence, however, emanated in Ethan’s new habit of being quite closed off and unwilling to share his thoughts with Mark, especially about how traumatized he found himself after Unus had harmed him. It became increasingly difficult to deal with as time went on between the previous encounter with him and present day, because with each passing second Unus was more likely to approach him again.

Ethan crept down to the kitchen on the morning of day 341 of the year. Crazy how time flies. Mark had been standing over by the stove making pancakes, reflecting on how he could try to stay optimistic during the last month. He heard Ethan’s footsteps entering the space, turning to say, “Hey you, want some pancakes?” in his cheeriest possible voice.

“Even I know that’s a fake ass tone,” Ethan said no louder than a whisper. “No, I’m not hungry.” 

“When’s the last time you’ve eaten a sustainable meal?” asked Mark, his concern showing through his optimistic facade when it came to his partner’s health. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I said I’m not hungry,” Ethan repeated, raising his voice a little so he could be clearly heard the second time.

“Stop using that same excuse,” said Mark, pointing his spatula at Ethan almost like a weapon.

Ethan knocked the utensil out of Mark’s hand, yelling, “Don’t tell me what to do!” before immediately stumbling backwards until his back hit the wall and shielding his face with his arms. “I don’t know what that was, I’m sorry,” he mumbled frantically. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“ _ Is this what we wanted for them? _ ”

Mark slowly approached him and moved his arms away from his eyes, gently tilting Ethan’s chin up so they could meet each other’s gaze. “I’d never hurt you,” he said genuinely.

“I-I wasn’t saying that part to you,” Ethan admitted, his voice hushed.

A shadowed hand came up to secretly rest on Ethan’s shoulder. “ _ No. Not this. We often go a little insane ourselves. _ ”

Later that same night, Mark had just sent half an hour of footage to Lixian, getting up from his chair and stretching before searching the house for Ethan so he could bring the boy to bed. Ethan sat on the couch typing away on his laptop like crazy, a lamp on the end table the only other light in the room. “Come to bed,” Mark suggested tiredly. Ethan only glanced up for a moment before returning to his screen and continuing to press down keys rapidly. 

“‘M not tired, Mark,” he claimed. Mark could see right through him, but he was frankly too exhausted to start an argument. 

“Whatever you say,” he settled for, coming forward enough to plant a kiss to Ethan’s temple before slowly trudging upstairs to sleep.

The next morning, he came back down to the living room to see Ethan passed out on the couch in the fetal position, his laptop still sitting open just above his head. Mark wiggled a finger back and forth for a moment on the touchpad until the screen blinked back to life, his eyes adjusting to the immensely bright light before he automatically skimmed over a few of the words in the document Ethan had been writing. A few phrases stuck out to him, like “he controls me” and “I’m afraid of it” or “it keeps me up at night”. To be quite honest, Mark could say the same for himself, but maybe not at such a level.

How did he have time to worry about Ethan though when they only had twenty-two days left before the end?

“Eth, wake up,” Mark said, nudging him. Ethan shot up from the couch, dazed and confused but also urgent.

“What? What happened?” he questioned, looking all around the room for any signs of danger.

“You shouldn’t let yourself fall asleep here, bud,” suggested Mark. “You could have come to bed last night.”

It was then that Ethan looked over at his open laptop and slammed it closed, peering up at Mark with a frightened gaze. “I feel like I’m going crazy,” he confessed, his eyes welling with tears. Without hesitation, Mark leaned down and engulfed him in a comforting hug.

“I know. Me too. But we’re not crazy, Eth, I promise you that.” At least Mark was sure of one thing during this surreal year. “We can get through this.”

With only twenty-one days left on the timer, precisely three weeks until an untimely demise for all, Ethan stood washing dishes while training his eyes on the swaying trees outside through the window, needing some form of movement to keep him awake. Two sleepless nights had fallen upon his shoulders and weighed him down so much he could hardly walk throughout the house. He reached up to put a glass in the cupboard when he realized something didn’t feel right. Maybe the reason he could hardly walk wasn’t solely due to a lack of sleep.

When was the last time he’d eaten?

“Mark?” he tried to call out, his attempt futile though when he couldn’t raise his volume to a high enough level for the man to hear him, wherever he was. Ethan looked back out at the trees, the glass still in his tired, shaking arm, and he noticed how much more the mighty plants seemed to sway now despite the wind not picking up any speed. Only when he began to lose his balance did it dawn on him that oh, he’s swaying too, and he managed to force out one more feeble cry of Mark’s name before his grip loosened enough for the glass to fall and the only sounds he heard before blacking out were a loud  _ thump  _ and the piercing noise of shattering glass. He tried to hold on a moment longer as his vision faded, but he gave in too early to hear the racing footsteps approaching or the faint cackling of a dark figure sitting criss-cross on the counter.

The light which stung his fatigued eyes when he woke up with a splitting headache half an hour later caused him to squint and bury his head in the couch cushions. The couch cushions?

Ethan turned back around and tried to sit up, but a large hand held him down. “Hey, you don’t have the energy for that,” Mark told him, offering him a glass of water and an apple. Ethan took a sip of the water before setting it on the coffee table, and then reluctantly grasped the apple in his shaky hand and took a bite or two before asking, “Did I pass out?” 

Mark breathed out an anxious chuckle. “Yeah, yeah you did. I thought I heard you say something while I was coming downstairs, and then I heard your body dropping to the floor a second later. I don’t think I’ve ever been more worried about someone in my life. How did you manage to pull that off?”

Mark spoke a mile a minute, and Ethan couldn’t keep up in his weakened condition. “Hold on,” he said, taking another nibble from the apple while he processed Mark’s words. “I thought it was just the lack of sleep, but I haven’t eaten in three days.”

The way he spouted the information off so casually, it pulled on Mark’s heart strings and he had no choice but to sympathize with the boy. That  _ other man  _ had done a number on him. “And what about the last time you slept?”

Ethan shook his head, blinking a few times in quick succession. “The other night I got maybe thirty minutes before you woke me up in the morning. Last night, nothing.”

“That settles it then. From now on I’m forcing you to come to bed with me as soon as it starts to get late. Being well-rested is more important than whatever you’re working on at the time.”

Ethan nodded and let himself get on board, knowing it would be for the best. “How long are you going to forcefully prevent me from trying to get up?”

Mark glanced at the sun beginning to set outside. “An hour or two, whenever you get some energy back. You need to eat more, though. Let me find you some other food.” Mark began to walk out to the kitchen when someone behind him grazed his back with their icy fingertips and said, “ _ Wasting more time I see. Are you asking to be punished? _ ”

Mark froze in place, unwilling to turn and face the monster he knew to be there. He glanced halfway to the side, seeing that Ethan’s eyes were fluttering shut again. He probably hadn’t noticed Annus disrupting the energy in the room. “ _ Aren’t you going to turn and face me, boy? _ ”

“You don’t deserve the attention,” gritted Mark, still refusing to turn.

Ethan blinked one eye open, the hair on his arms raising at the sight in front of him. He wanted to speak, but he knew it would be breaking a sort of rule.

“ _ That’s rich coming from someone like you. _ ” Annus crept his hands close to Mark’s shoulders, not quite touching but just close enough for Mark to feel a chill. “ _ Take a look at your lover over there and how weak he is. You don’t have time to spend helping him when you have a channel to be running. Forget about him and finish the channel by yourself if you have to, but it must be your top priority. _ ”

“Someone I care about is always more important than my side channel on Youtube,” Mark claimed, his fists clenching as rage steadily kindled to melt the ice away which Annus tried to trap him with.

“ _ Poor Mark, when will you stop lying to yourself? Don’t pretend he means more to you than all the money you make. Imagine it, you could double that money if he’s not a part of the channel anymore. Why don’t I call Unus in to finish him off--” _

Livid at the man in the white suit, Mark turned on his heel and brought his fist up in a furious swing towards the other’s jaw, but before he could get it there Annus had caught Mark’s fist in his hand and watched the color drain from Mark’s face as he used only a fraction of his inhuman strength to keep Mark from escaping. With a devious, evil smirk, Annus shot daggers into each of Mark’s eyes as he closed his fist abruptly, smashing the bones in Mark’s fingers as the latter howled in pain, his knees weak and his whole right arm throbbing. His nerves went haywire, sending various signals which both told him to panic and to stay still in order to prevent any more possible damage.

“ _ Don’t tell me you don’t like the pain, Mr. Masochist, _ ” Annus goaded. Mark moved then, trying to free himself from the other’s hold on him, but his hand was only crushed more by his enemy’s intense and increasing grip. Mark yelled out for him to stop wasting his own time, effectively wiping the smirk off of Annus’ face. He chose to disappear just as Ethan’s eyes shot open from the loud noise.

That’s when Ethan watched Mark crumple to the floor, holding his wrist and hunching over himself. He let out a gut-wrenching sob, and Ethan’s heart nearly stopped.

  
  


“Are your fingers okay? How’s your hand? Does it hurt?” Ethan moved to sit next to Mark on the couch, watching the man type away on his laptop keyboard despite his very recent hand injury.

Mark waved him off with his good hand, keeping his eyes trained on the screen. Ethan noted how immersed in technology each of them could get sometimes. “It’s better. Still hurts like a bitch, but I can use it at least.”

Ethan almost wanted to crack a joke about Mark’s lurking pain kink, but the faint words of “ _ Don’t tell me you don’t like the pain, Mr. Masochist, _ ” echoed in his ears and he decided against it. He especially didn’t want to say anything else to remind Mark of what had happened; he could hardly imagine the man’s experience since Ethan himself had been half out of it the entire time, and he wasn’t the one in danger.

“And you took your pain meds this morning?” he checked, laying a fond hand on Mark’s shoulder. He received a simple nod in response. “And...when you finish what you’re working on there do you want to watch a movie? I just--just rented a--”

Ethan found himself stuttering and trailing off at the sound of fingers tapping on the counter, slowly turning his head to look over at the kitchen where, unsurprisingly, his clad-in-black time rival leaned on his elbows over the granite, his eyes mostly closed but his ears always listening in. Ethan swallowed thickly, clearing his throat and trying to think back to what he had been saying only moments ago. Fear tends to mess with his train of thought. “Um, I guess what I meant to say,” he continued, his fingers wandering over to the sleeve of Mark’s hoodie and gripping the fabric, “was that we should spend some time making sure our videos for the next two days are ready to go, yeah?” 

Mark turned to look at him, noticing how hushed Ethan’s voice had been. He caught on quickly, using a similar yet deeper tone to address Ethan’s suggestion. “Hm, yeah. We’ll also need to make sure we have our ideas all listed out for next week.” Mark spoke slower, more deliberately, like he was trying to test the hearing range of Ethan’s lookalike in the kitchen. They were constantly on edge now. Constantly having to sneak glances around the house, constantly praying to a god they didn’t believe in that neither of them would be hurt again until their time was up, constantly aching. 

Aching for a way to escape the madness brought upon them by two figures who foolishly believed they had been surreptitious enough to hide their fear of their own rapidly approaching demise by tormenting the recipients of their ticking time-bomb messages.

Aching to be free of the titles of the also foolish messengers of time, the two poor souls who were randomly chosen and expected to give four-and-a-half million people a “good” final year of life.

The problem was, Mark and Ethan weren’t giving them anything. Who gave them the right to do so?

“Do you remember our idea for a video where we would go swimming at night?” asked Mark. “Because honestly Eth, not that I’m afraid, but I’d rather not do that anymore.”

Ethan shot him a sympathetic smile, leaning into his side. “You’re allowed to be afraid.”

_ You’re supposed to be afraid. _

“But don’t let  _ them  _ talk you down from it, even if it’s indirectly,” Ethan urged. “I still think it could be fun. It’s just like regular swimming, but when it’s dark.”

“When it’s  _ dangerous,  _ you mean.”

_ Life is always dangerous. _

Ethan whipped his head to the side, taking another glance at the kitchen, where  _ someone  _ sat criss-cross on the counter talking to  _ someone  _ who leaned his back against the fridge. They looked far less intimidating from a distance. “I think we should record that one tonight.”

Mark peeked through the curtains at the sun inching towards the horizon, breathing out a shaky breath. “Tonight?” he whispered. 

“Tonight.”

“Why?” Mark’s eyes held a certain hesitation that Ethan couldn’t exactly memorize.

Ethan gave Mark’s shoulder a light squeeze. “It’ll help us be less afraid.”

Mark didn’t quite understand at first. “Of swimming at night?”

“Of  _ them. _ ”

“Oh.”

Ethan felt a sense of pride later that night when he found himself able to convince Mark to do it, watching as the latter stepped out onto the patio in his trunks and breathed in the early November air. Ethan couldn’t have been sure why he wasn’t at all afraid to do this from the get-go when Mark had been terrified, but maybe he and Mark just had to have that balance once again.

“The Gongoozler will take you by the toes and bring you _down,_ _down, down_ into the frothy depths,” he sputtered out, chlorine dripping from his hair and face as he paid no attention to what he actually spouted off at that late hour.

Mark tried to remain confused and nothing more, playing his fear off for the camera like mere disappointment in Ethan’s tendencies to create characters out of himself during their videos. But he wouldn’t stand there, feet in the water, and try to convince himself that something was off about Ethan this time. Worse than when Melon Man happened. Worse than the cryptid.

It simply wasn’t Ethan.

Mark slowly inched deeper into the water, keeping an eye on Ethan while the latter splashed up out of the water for a moment before diving back in, ruining Mark’s plan to watch him since he couldn’t see him under the dark liquid. Moonlight bounced off the surface, forcing a temporary blindness in Mark’s eyes as he tried desperately not to stumble backwards. He felt something, or rather someone, reach out and poke his right ankle, and forgetting to act nonchalant for a moment he jumped up away from the water, a frown on his face when Ethan popped up and laughed.

Mark saw deep black pools of nothing in those eyes.

A dark mist coating Ethan’s pale skin.

“Ethan, can you cut the bit out for a second?” asked Mark.

_ “Don’t listen to him,”  _ someone told Ethan, a voice crawling up his back and over his shoulder.

Ethan slowly began to sink back under the water. “The Gongoozler will find you,” he murmured.

“ _ And he won’t forgive you for your treason against the clock. _ ”

“Wait, that doesn’t even make sense,” said Ethan.

Mark cocked his head. “Who are you talking to?”

“ _ I think you know. _ ” Mark elected to ignore the bright shadow slithering up behind him.  _ “Don’t act like you don’t know.” _

“Don’t know what?” Mark said, his mind becoming fuzzy. What were they doing to him? And to Ethan?

Then Ethan dove into the water again, and Mark felt his head being tugged under the surface.

His only coherent thought was the concern that he might not come back up.

  
  


“I’m starting to hate this suit,” said Mark. “I can’t ever spill a drop of anything on it.”

Ethan forced out a chuckle despite the dryness in his throat. “ _ We custom made these for you. Appreciate them, _ ” said Unus.

“Fuck you,” Ethan muttered under his breath.

“ _ Defiant now, are we? Hm? _ ” Unus stood closely behind Ethan, snaking his fingers around the boy’s neck and threatening to put pressure there. “ _ Know your place. _ ”

Mark tapped his foot. “You take after Ethan. Pretending to act like a top when it’s obvious you’re submissive. Do you and Annus ever, you know--”

“ _ He’s not supposed to talk to me, _ ” Unus complained, turning to Annus. The latter approached Mark, sighing as he thought for the first time that he was getting sick of this.

“ _ I don’t even have any energy left to deal with you, _ ” Annus mumbled to Mark. 

The more they interacted, the more it dawned on Mark how Unus and Annus gradually began to act like humans, and how he and Ethan gradually did the opposite. Diffusing into each other’s personalities. Mark didn’t want his final breaths to be spent as a shadow. 

  
  


Ethan woke up in the middle of the night screaming for what seemed to be the third time within a week. He couldn’t see anything until a lamp flicked on on the other side of him and he frantically whipped his head around to see Mark moving towards him to hug him back to a state of calm. He was awake; he knew it was only a dream. This sort of thing had happened far too many times now for Mark to waste seconds telling him that. Instead, he only held him tight until Ethan sunk back into the pillows and would soon sleep again.

However, Mark had other plans. “Let me ask you something,” he said, and Ethan acknowledged him with a hum. “Do you think I’m weak?”

Ethan gazed at him in astonishment. “I would never,” he breathed.

“Why do we admit to each other that we’re scared? Admit it to them?”

Ethan forced the cogs to turn in his brain so he could give a half-intelligent answer, unable to find time to question his boyfriend’s thought process. “We’re two honest people.”

Mark sighed a good, long sigh. “I’m just going to say this now. If we stop wasting our breaths in panic mode, we could enjoy ourselves enough to film the kind of content we used to at the beginning of the year. The good shit.”

Ethan propped himself up on one elbow. “It’s really that simple, huh?”

“Think about it,” continued Mark. “If our content is naturally better because we’re worrying less, they won’t threaten us anymore because we’re not up to par.”

Ethan felt his shoulders slump in relaxation for the first time in a long time, and though there was a chance Mark’s logic wasn’t so sound, they were both more than willing to take that chance. “You are one-hundred percent genius sometimes, you know that?”

Mark chuckled. “You’re overexaggerating. Close your mouth so I can kiss it.”

Ethan did exactly that.

The plan wasn’t the same the next night, as Ethan woke up from a vaguely similar nightmare in which they had to watch everyone’s timer run out one second off from each other, each person across the world turning to stone in quick succession while the Founders of Time forced Mark and Ethan to watch. They had to stare at death on a global scale.

Just the crack of dawn and Ethan had to wake up with tears streaming down his face. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m here, it’s not real,” Mark fired off in a soothing voice. Despite their previous conversation it took twice as long for Ethan to dispel his panic and sadness.

“This has to all be a sick joke,” Ethan sobbed, his head hitting the pillow with a loud  _ poof.  _ “The world can’t be ending in, like, a week.”

“Don’t deny it now when we’ve already come so far,” pleaded Mark. “I thought we had both accepted this.”

“But don’t you get it? I know my days are numbered no matter what, but I’m so young, and think of all the little kiddies who have only lived a few years of life, and that’ll all be over in eight days, and it’s just not fair for the Founder of Time or whoever to just  _ decide  _ to--”

“Hey, stop that,” Mark said urgently, noticing how Ethan had unknowingly started to dig his fingernails into the skin on his arms. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Ethan took the longest, deepest breath he could and tried to will away the tears which were still pouring out of his eyes. “It was an accident, I’m sorry.” He removed his hands from their position.

Mark brushed a stray piece of hair away from Ethan’s forehead. “You know what Eth? We can’t let those two and their selfish Father of Time beat us down this way. So we’re going to record the best content we can, just enough to fill the next seven days, and on the final day,  _ our  _ final day, we’ll go out and do whatever we want. We’ll completely ignore them, and I’m willing to bet they won’t bother us if we’re out and about anyway. You with me?”

“You think we can ignore them?” repeated Ethan.

“I know so. We’re strong enough to, you know?” Ethan nodded after letting the words sink in, attempting a feeble smile as Mark reached his thumb out to wipe Ethan’s tears from his soft cheeks. “I love you,” Mark whispered.

Ethan was out like a light before he could whisper it back. 

  
  


000:11:59:59

Mark closed his laptop and exhaled slowly, running a hand through his grown out hair. “Video’s up,” he confirmed, a small, sad smile forming on his face as he peered up at Ethan, who stood next to the desk. “We have no more than twelve hours to do whatever we want before the end. Any ideas?”

Ethan leaned down and kissed Mark slow and deep, alarm bells ringing in his head telling him that this would be one of the last times he’d ever have the privilege of doing so. “I know it’s only noon,” he said, “and not a socially acceptable time, but I want you to take me to bed.”

Mark smirked the best he could up at Ethan and stood from his chair, taking Ethan’s calloused hand and leading him to their bedroom, constantly looking back as if Ethan would disappear right in front of him if he glanced away even for a second. Once at their destination, Mark stopped and pressed Ethan up against the door, running his hands up and down his sides while stepping up close enough so that they breathed onto each other’s faces. “I want to be holding you when it ends,” Mark whispered, staring down at his hands on Ethan’s hips while Ethan’s eyes darted over the features on Mark’s face. “That way I’ll never have to let you go.”

Ethan fought away the tears in his eyes. They still had twelve hours. Twelve hours is enough time to completely soak each other up. Nothing to worry about.

Famous last words.

Soon, Ethan and Mark walked down the strip, glancing at a small billboard that briefly displayed the time before returning to its advertisements. “We have six hours,” warned Mark, signifying that half of their time had already passed. Ethan tried not to let this fact discourage him, so rather than acknowledging what Mark had said, he chose to take Mark by the wrist and lead him into a shop. They could wait to worry about that.

Time couldn’t.

“Mark, it’s almost nine already,” Ethan complained, pouting. Mark held his hand as they exited the restaurant, squeezing a little for reassurance.

“I know, baby, just let me take you to the fountains and then we’ll get to my surprise after.” The two walked side by side, Ethan not wishing to rush the night along but far too curious about the so-called “surprise” that he grew impatient. But he had to enjoy everything now, no excuses. Not with barely three hours left to live.

Seeking a distraction, Ethan looked around at all the people walking down sidewalks, driving through intersections and laughing on the inside of crystal clear windows. The sun set hours ago, yet the street lights provided enough brightness for the public to keep on keeping on.

“Look at everyone out here. No one knows about the end. It’s only us,” Ethan pointed out. “Do you think they’re all enjoying their day?”

“I hope so,” replied Mark, moving a little closer to Ethan. The distance between them seemed to increase as Ethan focused his attention on anything that wasn’t Mark.

Guess that’s what knowing you only have a few hours left to live does to you. Makes you struggle for a pair of eyes on you, or a hand to hold. Funny to remember that at the beginning of the year, Mark was in no way an affectionate person.

“God, Ethan, how do we only have half an hour?”

Ethan snapped his focus back to Mark, whose hand had been trailing up and down the inside of his thigh for quite some time on the ride up. “What altitude are we at?” he asked, peering out of the window at the dark sky at eye level.

“Almost there. When do you guys want to jump?” the attendant asked, preparing to open the side door. 

“Depends. How long is the ride down?” asked Mark, tapping his fingers against Ethan’s leg.

“Usually about five to six minutes,” was the response.

Mark took a deep breath and glanced up at the ceiling of the helicopter. “Is it alright with you guys if we jump at exactly 11:53?” He leaned towards Ethan and added, “That way we’ll have an extra minute.”

Once they had reached the final hour of life, the minutes seemed to tick by exponentially faster. Ethan hummed.

“Alright fellas, it’s 11:50. Let’s finish getting your gear on,” the attendant announced, standing to the best of his ability and reaching for their additional equipment.

Two minutes later and they were strapped together with one parachute, which would serve as the only object that would prevent them from dying approximately four minutes before their time. Mark and Ethan took their time mentally preparing, breathing deep and slow. In and out. Realizing that what they were about to do is potentially life-threatening.

Being on your deathbed can cause you to be reckless. Knowing how many seconds you have left can cause you to savor each reckless moment you live through.

Neither of them could pay much attention to the first feeling of jumping out, not when everything happened so fast and for almost a minute they were free falling, cold wind blowing straight up into their faces and freshening up their hair. Then, when Ethan tried to shout something at him, Mark remembered his job and pulled a cord which released their parachute. Nearly five minutes of gracefully floating down to the Earth they reside with had them almost in tears at the reminder that each passing second in the air brought them so, so close to the end.

As they came near to the ground, they each turned their attention to the two men waiting for them, one in black and one in white. They stood the same way Ethan and Mark did for their first video on the channel, their hands clasped together in formality.

When they found their footing and unhooked the parachute, they threw off their helmets and whatever other bulky gear they could before approaching their respective messengers. Mark glanced at his watch one last time, declaring that they had exactly one minute, no more, no less.

“ _ Glad you could finally make it, _ ” said Annus, as if he were an old friend from the past. He and Unus gripped Mark and Ethan by their shoulders, turning the two to face each other and forcing them both down on their knees. Ethan wanted to reach towards Mark, but Unus took his hands and restrained them behind his back, Annus doing the same for the other. Ethan might have cried if they were rough with the two of them.

Yet he was able to scoot himself forward enough on his knees, the grass staining his skinny jeans as he rested his forehead against Mark’s one last time. “Don’t say goodbye,” Mark told him softly. “No one else has the opportunity to. They don’t know.”

Ethan nodded and lifted his head, gazing into Mark’s eyes. He licked his lips and glanced away.

Unus held Ethan’s wrists tighter. “ _ It’s time. Surrender to the clock.” _

Annus tilted his head down. “ _ Your year is over. _ ”

Seconds ticked away too quickly for anyone’s liking, but time waits for no one. Ethan smiled wide for Mark, and as two tears fell, one from each eye, he whispered, “one last kiss,” just loud enough for the other man to hear. With a shaky exhale, each leaned forward, sharing their final moment.

“ _ Memento Mori, _ ” said Unus.

“ _ Unus Annus. _ ”

Mark chuckled sadly, his mouth connecting to Ethan’s, both pairs of pink lips freezing in time no sooner than they collided. Fitting how the world stopped just as their lips brushed together.

Nothing moved. Complete and utter silence.

000:00:00:00.

  
  


A quick hand caught Ethan from falling off of the mattress, his heart pounding loud in his ears and in his throat. Warmth buzzed through his chest, an odd tingly feeling which he wouldn’t mind losing to be honest. It soon dissipated though when Mark lifted his head from the pillow and asked groggily, “Hey, are you okay?”

Ethan couldn’t find it in himself to speak. Everything around him looked out of place, yet he felt right at home. Is this an afterlife? Ethan hadn’t really believed in those.

He reached around for his phone and clicked it on, the screen coming to life instantly and displaying the date and time. November 15th, 2020.

Clearing his throat, he forced himself to say, “I had a nightmare,” and nothing more. He heard Mark mumble a muffled, “it’s only a dream,” before the man pulled Ethan back into bed, Ethan snuggling into his side.

Before he could return to sleep, Ethan picked up a faint ticking sound, shaking it off as his imagination playing tricks on him. Behind him, their alarm clock counted down, its usual digits scaled down in size to accommodate a much larger sequence of numbers.

21900:18:56:03. Sixty years from now.

In the mirror leaned up against the wall, Unus sat on the bed, only in the reflected image. Annus stood next to him, gliding his fingers over the white sheets. “ _ Do you think he knows? _ ”

Unus acknowledged his partner with a shake of the head, staring at sleeping Ethan from inside the glass. “ _ No, but let’s keep it that way. I want him to be at peace. _ ” Unus reached out to the side and took Annus’ hand, lacing their fingers together, the temperature balancing between blazing hot and ice cold fingertips. “ _ Their time will come soon enough. _ ”

“ _ Nothing lasts forever. _ ”

The mirror began to fog, coated in a misty spiral of black and white before dissipating just as quickly, leaving only Mark and Ethan in the reflection and no one else. They slept, as lovers, finding tranquility in their isolation; waiting for Death to reap them in the unrelenting future racing towards them, bounding over the golden-edged horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal for this fic was to start off casual (as normal as Unus Annus could get) but have it slowly dwindle down into chaotic scenes and madness, kind of representing the panic before death. It’s not supposed to be pretty, but it should be recognized.
> 
> I wasn’t satisfied with the original ending of all time freezing, which is why I decided to go for the classic “it was all a dream” ending. Sort of. I wanted that timer to be stuck there, without their knowledge to remind the reader that their end is still coming for them someday even without a grand scheme going on like Unus Annus. And there’s only one number on the timer rather than two to signify that Mark and Ethan will die together. I’m soft.
> 
> So thanks for spending your sweet time reading this! I miss the channel and the boys being chaotic together, but I’ll always have enough memories to keep writing about it.
> 
> Memento Mori. Unus Annus.


End file.
